Wings of Shadow (The Underground Trilogy) (13 page)

Reassured, Meghan spread the blanket on the mossy forest floor, and reached for the basket. Avery teased her by moving it out of her way.

“Eager?” he inquired, with a playful look.

“I am! This is my first real faerie picnic. When I was a little girl, I would have elaborate tea parties and picnics with all of the imaginary faeries living in my backyard.”

Avery appeared intrigued. “Really? I would invite a handful of imaginary human friends to my picnics when I was a faeling. Humans fascinated me as much as faeries must intrigue human children.”

Avery began to unpack the basket. He had put together an elaborate picnic, and Meghan was surprised to see many of her favorites were present. She realized that underneath Avery’s front of mirth and jokes, he was very observant and thoughtful.

“For you, my lady,” he said gallantly, handing her a wooden plate and a goblet of elderberry juice. Meghan glanced at the many choices and filled her plate with fresh berries, cashew loaf, and quinoa salad. She nibbled at her food while gazing at Avery.

“Humans? Was that a real story?” Meghan was never sure when the joking Avery ended and his more serious counterpart appeared.

He grinned. “It is true! You have to remember that the Fae do not, uh…, procreate very often, which means there is often only a sole faeling in the village. The stories of groups of human children playing together and attending school together were very captivating.”

“How old were you when your father removed Kiernan from the village?”

Avery’s face fell. “It was the day of our third birthday. I was too young to even remember him. Sometimes, I imagine… never mind, it could never happen.” His frown disappeared as he jumped to his feet. “Are you done?” he asked. “I would like to show you something.”

Meghan took his waiting hand, and he pulled her toward the majestic tree.

“Why do they call this the Sky Tree?” she asked.

Avery grinned, brown curls bouncing in response to his quick movements. “You are soon going to find out. The picnic was only the first surprise of the evening.” He pulled himself up to the first branch of the tree. Taking her hand, he helped her onto the branch.

“Ready?” He skipped from limb to limb, climbing higher and higher. Like a little boy, he merrily made his way toward the top of the tree.

Meghan carefully stepped from one branch to another. Each was a leg span away from the next, and the limbs wove their way up the tree, taking her higher and higher. The tree appeared to be perfectly constructed, as though it were designed by the finest architect, yet nature had created this autonomously. Selena was right, she mused. Nature had a way of continuously amazing, when people bothered to pay attention to it. Meghan recalled growing up in the suburbs of Portland and how oblivious she had been to nature. In some ways, she had learned more about the world in the month she had been in England than in the four years she had spent completing high school. That thought was reaffirming for Meghan, and for the first time, she felt confident about her decision to travel before beginning college.

“Need help?” Avery’s head emerged from a cluster of leaves. “Sorry, I forgot to be a proper host. The strong magic here always fills me with exuberance.” He held out his hand.

She ignored his hand and continued to climb. “I’m perfectly capable of climbing this tree myself.”

He looked down bashfully. “I know you are. I was just hoping to have a reason to hold your hand again.”

With those words, he bounded into the leaves, disappearing from view. She felt relieved that Avery had taken off, for she wasn’t sure how she would have responded to his disclosure. And, she was happy he was too far up the tree to see how flushed she had become.

As Meghan climbed through the higher branches, she was surprised to see they remained as sturdy and accessible as the lower limbs. It truly was a staircase into the sky. She stepped onto the final curving branches, and pulled a curtain of lichen aside to pass into the highest part of the tree. She gasped. The scene before her was like nothing she had experienced before. The trunk of the tree flattened into a smooth wide floor with branches surrounding it, like spokes on a bicycle wheel. Atop the floor, large hand-woven cushions were spread about. Avery sat upon one of the cushions, watching her reaction.

“Oh, Avery,” she exclaimed. “It’s a giant living tree house! How is this even possible?”

A smile spread across Avery’s face. “I knew you would love it! Much of our magic comes from having a symbiotic relationship with nature. By tending to the plants and animals around us, and adding a bit of our magic, we help living things thrive. In return, they share some of their magic with us. On very rare occasions, the pool of magic overflows. Wondrous things can happen when it does. The Sky Tree is an example of this intense magic.”

As Meghan looked over the forest, she realized she was at an excellent vantage point. The forest spanned as far as she could see in one direction. Turning around, she could spot Solas in the distance. Behind the village, the rolling, grassy hills and knolls of the English countryside could be seen.

“What a fantastic view,” Meghan said appreciatively.

The sun was beginning to set, filling the forest with shades of gold, amber, and coral. Avery’s long wings blended with the sunset, wispy feathers the same hues as the sinking sun. They were beautiful in that light.

Without thinking, Meghan reached out and stroked one wing. The downy soft feathers caressed her fingers. Avery stared intently at her, and a soft humming noise seemed to rise from his throat.

Startled, Meghan withdrew her hand. “I… I’m so sorry.” She stared down at her lap, focusing on a stray piece of lichen which clung to her dress.

“I did not mind at all. I rather enjoyed it.” He took her hand and placed it back on his wing tip.

Meghan gingerly ran her hand down the length of the wing. Underneath the feathery covering, she was surprised to feel muscles. He sat very still, with his eyes closed, and his breath held.

“Am I… am I hurting you?”

Avery’s eyes flew open, amusement filling them. “Absolutely not! Explore away, my inquisitive friend.”

Meghan continued her exploration, shifting her position so she could reach both wings. They were so beautiful! She had been intrigued by the Fae, but never imagined she would have wing envy.

“I wasn’t sure if they would be fragile, like butterfly wings, where if you touch too much, you can damage the scales,” Meghan explained, her fingertips running down the wings once more.

Avery hummed more intensely. “Thankfully not,” he sputtered, his breathing growing more rapid.

Meghan had a sudden realization. She jerked her hands away from Avery’s wings. “Could you actually feel me touching your wings?”

“Of course I could, silly. Can you actually feel me touching your hair?” He ran his fingers through her locks. Meghan had a difficult time responding as Avery’s fingers grazed her scalp and continued down her soft waves.

“Without having wings, it’s difficult to imagine what they would feel like.” She had grown so close to Avery over these past few weeks, she had forgotten he was of a completely different species. “So, how do the wings feel?”

Avery looked mortified. “Well, it is like any body part. You become accustomed to its being there, so you do not necessarily notice unless you are focusing on that particular area.”

“And when you are focusing on that area?”

He looked down bashfully. “Wings are the most sensitive area of our bodies.”

She threw a pillow at Avery, spluttering, “You never thought that you should mention that?” She hid her face in her hands.

“I was planning on it, but I became distracted—a beautiful human stroking my wings? I would guess that might be the fantasy of every young Fae!” He looked down. “If only there were other young Fae to talk with about fantasies.”

Meghan tried hard to be mad, but remaining angry with Avery was difficult. She was enjoying herself too much to stay upset, and he had just called her beautiful.

“Um, since we are talking about informed consent concerning wings, I guess I should mention that it would not be, um, socially acceptable to stroke another Fae’s wings in public. But in private, stroke away, if that is what you wish!” Avery ducked just in time to avoid being struck by another flying pillow.

Still laughing, he threw the pillow back at Meghan. Picking up another one, he chased her around the small room. As Meghan stepped backward to escape him, she tripped over a cushion and fell to the floor.

Avery immediately ceased his play and dropped to the ground, hovering over her. Stroking her cheek, he peered into her eyes.

“I am so sorry, Meg. Are you all right?”

Initially stunned by the fall, she then found herself dazed by his closeness. Leaning even nearer to her, Avery continued to gaze into her eyes. Without her fully knowing how it happened, their lips met. He gently brushed his soft lips against hers and then jumped up, blushing brightly.

A musky, flowery aroma filled the air. Something vibrated against her leg. Reaching inside her dress pocket, she removed her hawthorn amulet. The crystal was glowing. Had it reacted to their kiss?

Meghan rose reluctantly. “It’s getting late. Should we head back?”

They descended slowly through the Sky Tree. She paused halfway down, wanting to prolong the memories of their evening together. As Meghan reached the base of the tree, she took a few steps out into the dark of the night.

A hand pressed against her mouth, preventing her from screaming, as a rough hand grasped her by the shoulder. She heard sounds of a struggle, and through the dim light saw Avery being held by a second captor. A chill spread through her at the sight of the latter’s sharp metal wings. Chaos.

~ 12 ~

Fatigue overpowered her. Meghan fought the urge to sink deeper into the mattress and fade back to sleep. Something wasn’t right. Her mind searched to identify what was wrong, but her thoughts were too foggy. As she relaxed against the pillow, she inhaled, waiting for the sweet smell of Selena’s herbs and flowers. Instead, she sniffed smoke, mixed with the acrid scent of metal. Metal! Meghan forced herself to fully awaken. The four-poster bed, the armchair in front of a roaring fire—she was back in that infernal prison of a room, back to the Underground.

The room blurred as tears filled her eyes. She was supposed to be safe in the village. How had they been captured? Avery. Where was Avery?

Meghan tried the door. As expected, it was locked. Alone, imprisoned, she sank down in the armchair and gazed into the blazing fire.

Time passed. She could not tell how long, but her thoughts were more coherent now. Had she been drugged, and for how long? She really had no sense of the day or time. The warmth of the fire soothed her body, but she couldn’t imagine anything could calm her mind.

The sound of the lock, metal grating against metal, interrupted her thoughts. She stood, preparing herself, as fear rushed back to her. Time seemed to slow as her muscles tightened and stomach turned. She reminded herself to breathe. As the door slid open, black leather wings darkened the doorway. Shade beckoned for her to approach. She caught a flash of Chaos’s metal wings behind him.

“Where is Avery? I want to see him.” Meghan glared at them, refusing to take another step. Shade marched into the room and grasped her arm. She tried to break his iron grip, but his fingers clung tightly around her wrist. Chaos grabbed her other arm, his cold fingers holding her securely.

They marched her out of the room and turned in the direction of
his
room. Meghan twisted and squirmed, but her feet barely grazed the floor. Within minutes, they were at Lord Killian’s chamber.

Chaos knocked once and opened the door. They deposited Meghan in the room and secured the door as they retreated.

“Ah, it is delightful to have my little house guest back,” Lord Killian’s voice boomed across the chamber.

Meghan tried the door. “Where is Avery? What have you done to him?”

Lord Killian stood in front of the fireplace, sipping a drink. “I thought it was my other son you were interested in. Humans can be so fickle.”

The door opened again, causing her to jump. She really hated this place—she was jittery as could be down here. Avery was pushed inside. Meghan spotted the sharp metal tip of Chaos’s wing before the door slammed close.

She ran to Avery and threw her arms around him. His scent, the smell of the forest and the gardens, reminded her of the village she had grown to love. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “What about you? Has he…” Avery stepped back and examined her neck, running his warm hand along her almost invisible scar.

“No.” Not yet, at least. Her body shuddered.

“Well, this is all very touching, and I hate to interrupt your little moment, but I would like to meet my son.” Lord Killian approached, scrutinizing Avery from head to toe. “We will need a hairdresser and a trip to the shopping centre for some more modern clothing. You look as though you stepped out of a faerie tale. No, you will never blend in with that outfit.”

Avery guided Meghan behind him. “Clothing? You speak to me of clothing? You have broken the treaty. It remained intact for seventeen years, and you severed it.”